


A Little More Than Observation

by peanuts1369



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Manipulation, Moral Ambiguity, Nogitsune, Peter doesn't like to be called a stalker, Pining, Steter Week 2.0, all the dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 19:37:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4275459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peanuts1369/pseuds/peanuts1369
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter spends his free time watching Stiles. It's just kind of a hobby for him. When Stiles changes overnight, Peter is the first to suspect he is possessed by the Nogitsune, but he can't get the others to believe him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little More Than Observation

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little one-shot contribution to Steter Week. Might end up as a series if I get inspired.

Peter liked to think of himself as an observer. “Stalker” carried all sorts of unfortunate connotations. Just watching someone, taking note of the way they moved, facial expressions, slight idiosyncrasies…he always prided himself on having the full picture, knowing everything and therefore could not be taken by surprise.

These days, Stiles was the target of Peter’s _observation_. He enjoyed watching the young man grow more sure of himself, less a jumbled pile of limbs and more graceful in his movements. He still never thought before he spoke, but Peter viewed that as a positive character trait, anyway. He found Stiles _interesting._ So he sat in his corner, while the others planned and conspired against the threat of the moment in Beacon Hills, and watched Stiles. Chewing on his pen, raking his hand through his hair with frustration, the way his eyes squinted when he was deep in thought. Yes, this boy was interesting, indeed.

This is why when Stiles seemed to up and change overnight, he didn’t understand why no one else saw it. Everything about him was wrong. The way he moved, his expressions, his little peculiarities that made him _Stiles_. It was all gone. The face was the same, but he was sure that this wasn’t Stiles.

“What do you mean that isn’t Stiles?” Scott asked, irritated and throwing his arms out in question. Peter had called a pack meeting, threatening them under pain of death not to notify Stiles.

“I mean, it’s him physically, but someone else is at the wheel. The Stiles that _we_ know is not in control.” Peter glanced around, looking at his pack member’s faces, one after another full of distrust and disdain. “I think Stiles is the Nogitsune.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Scott laughed, as if Peter was finally letting them in on the joke, “I’ve seen him, talked to him. I’ve known Stiles my whole life. If someone was controlling him, I think I would be the first one to notice.” The others visibly relaxed, the tension leaving the moment. Derek still looked like he was on the edge of a pin, but that was just Derek these days.

Peter huffed in frustration. “Do you really think you know him anymore, Scott? His whole life has been about you from the second I bit you. You see each other every day, but do really _know_ him? Because I do. I see it, and none of you idiots are paying attention.” Without waiting for a rebuttal, he stormed out of the loft into the elevator, and waited for the door to close.

Fucking idiots, all of them. He didn’t know how they had even survived this long. Probably because Stiles was the brains of the operation. He always figured things out, made a plan, and watched that plan come to fruition. The others just had to shut up and follow directions. Well, Peter may be a selfish bastard, but he’s not just going to let some _thing_ take over Stiles’ mind. Stiles was the only one in the pack he could even stand.

Finding Stiles would prove to be more challenging than Peter initially thought. He checked all of the locations that he knew Stiles to frequent but had no luck. He snuck in through his bedroom window to rifle through Stiles belongings, determined to find something. Some clue as to where Stiles was hiding out, maybe what his plan was. Not Stiles’ plan, the Nogitsune’s plan, he reminded himself. Stiles’ room looked like an average teenage boy’s bedroom on the surface. Band posters and random thrift store finds lined the walls, his closet brimming with the flannels and novelty tees he adorned himself with so frequently. The smell was the same as it had been the last time he was here, when he had crept through that same window to watch Stiles sleep for a bit. Yes, _stalker_ , was such a nasty word. He just liked to observe.

On a desk, buried under some research Stiles had done on Bardo and Asian folklore, Peter found an address scribbled onto a piece of scratch paper. It was probably nothing, but he had no clues and nowhere left to look.

“Peter,” a familiar voice quietly came from behind him.

He spun around, startled and angry that anyone was able to sneak up on him. His claws were dangerously close to the surface but only his eyes really gave his surprise away, glowing ice blue in the dark room. Stiles stood behind him, looking relaxed and bit amused and curious. The Stiles that Peter knew was rarely relaxed, and he cursed Scott and the rest of the pack mentally. How could they not see it, when it was so obvious to him?

“Stiles…” he replied, just above a whisper. He didn’t think it wise to reveal all this cards too quickly.

“What are you doing in my room?” Stiles asked smoothly, eying him warily, like his presence was unexpected but not unwelcome. He smiled slightly, invitingly. If Peter had had any doubt that this wasn’t Stiles before, he knew now. Stiles would never smile at him.

“I’ve been looking for you. Did you know there’s a Nogitsune here in Beacon Hills?” Peter matched the smile with a smirk of his own, and wondered briefly when the last time he genuinely smiled was. He favored his smirk, the half-smile favored in sarcasm and douchebaggary.

“I think I heard something about that.” Stiles replied, quirking an eyebrow at him. He crossed the room, stopping directly next to Peter’s side. Their arms brushed as Stiles grabbed the paper out of Peter’s hand. He glanced down at the page, then back up at Peter.

“Well I guess you found me.” He smiled again, but this time it wasn’t friendly. He looked at Peter like he was prey. It wasn’t something Peter recognized being on the receiving end of, ever. Peter was the predator. At least he had been.

“I guess I’m too impatient to continue with this. Obviously you’re not Stiles. Just tell me what you want and perhaps I’ll help you. Then you can be on your way.” Peter refused to be the one to back away but even he was getting a bit uncomfortable at his proximity to “Stiles”. The Nogitsune looked up at him through Stiles’ lashes, and laughed.

“Oh Peter, I think the better question is what _you_ want. He’s seen the way you look at him. He’s in here, you know…screaming for help. Screaming for someone to notice that this isn’t him. Isn’t it curious that you were the one to realize it first? Where is dear old Scott? Where’s this precious pack he keeps rambling about?” There’s that predator smile again.

This time Peter does take a step back. He thought the Nogitsune would put up a bigger fight. Try to keep the illusion, fooling everyone into thinking that nothing’s changed. Peter just isn’t one to play games. He never had any patience for it, even when he was younger, before the fire. Hide-and-seek is a ridiculous fucking child’s game.

“What I want is for you to leave. Find some other idiot to possess. This idiot is mine.” Peter reached a hand up to stroke the side of Stiles’ face. He looks closely at the boy before him, all pink lips and pale skin. _So beautiful_.

“You’re an opportunist, Peter. This is an opportunity.” Stiles steps closer yet again, eliminating any of the space between them. Important space. Space that allows Peter to think with his brain and not his body. Stiles smells the same, like cinnamon and fresh-cut grass and pack. It’s something that has always drawn him to the boy. The smell makes him want to dig his nose into the boy’s neck and claim him, forgetting that this isn’t really Stiles, and he has no idea what Stiles actually wants, what his voice is yelling inside of the Nogitsune.

“I could be him, you know. I’ve been pretending for quite a while. I can be quite convincing. All you need to do it take. He’s right here waiting for you to take him.”

Stiles begins to unbutton his shirt, eyes never leaving Peter’s. He does it slowly, seductively, and Peter wonders how this situation became so dangerous so quickly. He’s wanted this boy for so long, the visual in front of him might as well be torture. He’d prefer the classic torture at this point. Cut off his fingers with a chainsaw, dig out his eyes with a spoon, that he could take.

Involuntarily, Peter places a hand on Stiles’ chest, running the hand from his neck down to his soft navel. He _wants_. Stiles smiles at him, encouraging, and lets the shirt drop from his shoulders. Peter meets his eyes again, trying to see if he can find the real Stiles in there. He’s just not sure. Like the Nogitsune said, he can be quite convincing.

Stiles takes a step back and moves his hand to the button on his jeans. Peter watches, finding it impossible to move. His gaze moves from Stiles’ honey-colored eyes, down his lithe body and finally lands on the hand unbuttoning his pants. Stiles lets out a light, embarrassed chuckle.

“Don’t you want me?” Oh, yes, Peter thinks, he’s very good at pretending.

Peter has never thought of himself as a good man. He was never evil. When he killed, he killed with reason, with purpose. He did not hurt the innocent. However, innocent is never a word he would have used to describe Stiles. Loyal, virginal, ruthless…a strange mixture of personality traits that was so damn alluring on a good day that usually Peter just found it easier to leave. Today, he just couldn’t find it in himself to go.

“I always want you, Stiles. The question is, how much of you is actually here?” Peter finally replies. He knows that it’s the Nogitsune, he knows it. But he is only human. Or, well, mostly.

Peter surges forward, gripping Stiles’ head on either side, consuming him in a kiss. A small moan makes its way out of Stiles’ throat before Peter has consumed all of his oxygen. Neither seems to care. They kiss for several moments, and it feels like a culmination of all the moments they’ve shared before…like it was all leading to this. Peter is usually the one who takes control, but this time Stiles does, and he finds that he enjoys it. Stiles is grinding himself against Peter, not at all surprise at the hardness he finds there.

“Doesn’t it feel good to give in, Peter? You feel so good.” Stiles murmurs as he shoves Peter down onto his childhood bed. Peter wants him to shut up. He wants to just look at him and see the person he knows, not the demon he is sure is controlling him. Stiles thrusts down onto Peter again, rubbing their cocks together invitingly, the friction making him harder than he’s ever been before. Every move he makes is alluring, drawing Peter further into his web. For the first time in his life, Peter feels powerless. He feels himself finally succumb to what he’s been pining for, _observing_ for the last two years.

“I think Stiles is jealous of me, that he doesn’t get to experience this firsthand. Not that he’d ever admit it...” The Nogitsune taunts as he moves a hand to grip Peter’s length, “Well, I’ll make sure he remembers this enough for all of us.”

Stiles finishes pulling his pants off and gets started on Peter’s. They entwine together, Peter too caught up in the moment to be wary of his own morals. Finally they are both totally naked, Stiles legs wrapped around Peter, gazing up has him like he hung the moon.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted this for so long. You have no idea what you do to me.” Stiles babbles as they grind against each other. Peter blanches, and meets Stiles eyes. That mischievous look is still there.

Peter flips Stiles onto his belly, not able to meet his eye anymore. He knows he won’t see the real Stiles looking back at him, and he can’t bare to look the Nogitsune in the eye again wearing his face.

“Can you just shut up for once? This doesn’t have to be a fucking discussion.” Peter grits out. He digs through Stiles’ bedside drawer briefly, not surprised when a bottle of lube is right there within reach. He smiles for just a second, because he knows the real Stiles, _his_ Stiles, put it there. He gets his fingers wet and circles Stiles’ hole roughly, plunging two fingers in right away. He’s torn between ravaging the boy’s body, punishing the Nogitsune and taking his own pleasure or being gentle, on the off-hand chance that Stiles in actually in there, and aware of what’s happening.

He settles for ravaging and hopes that Stiles, if he ever returns, will forgive him.

 


End file.
